


THE RETURN OF THE EXILED

by jenni4765



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenni4765/pseuds/jenni4765
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas and Gimli are in Valinor and finally free from the conflicts of war could concentrate on their relationship if they were not distracted by others.</p><p>This is a light-hearted look at what might have happened after Elf and Dwarf left Middle-earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	THE RETURN OF THE EXILED

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynndyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynndyre/gifts).



> The recipient had asked for book characterizations and did not want movie characterizations. I hope I fulfilled this part of the request, although it is difficult to erase the movie characterizations from my mind. There also should be hurt/comfort, angst that gets better, xenophobia and non-sexual knowledge of each other's bodies. I tried to incorporate most of what was requested.
> 
> Thanks to alexcat for the most helpful and reassuring beta.

The Return of the Exiled

 

Legolas awoke with a start. He had not meant to fall asleep but had done so regardless in the gardens surrounding his new home in Valinor. Leaping to his feet he shook off the leaves and bits of twig and dirt that had clung to his clothing.

When he and Gimli had first arrived on the shores of the Blessed Realm they had taken a tour around the lands available to them for making their permanent home. They had, with surprisingly little difference of opinion, decided on the Woods of Orome in which to build their two separate houses—connected but still separate from each other. This made perfect sense because it meant that Gimli could be near Aule the Smith, the Vala who also resided in these woods. Since Aule created the Dwarves he appeared to have no intention of allowing the Dwarf to wander too far, being the only one of his kind in Valinor.

In fact, Aule’s enthusiastic reaction to the arrival of Gimli and Legolas had caused the Dwarf not a little discomfort.

“Confound it, Legolas,” he had grumbled one day when they were breaking fast together. “I cannot get a moment’s peace without Aule constantly at my heels. ‘Can I do this for you, Gimli? Can I get that for you?’ Honestly, Legolas, he treats me as if I was the Vala and that he was the humble Dwarf. I did not think that when I came here I would find everything turned upside down. You know how I don’t like change and how much I value my peace and quiet.”

Legolas paused from breaking his bread to laugh heartily at the memory. It had taken Gimli a bit more time than it had taken him to settle into his new life but the Elf had tried to reassure his friend that the choice they had made to leave Middle-earth had been the right one. At this time Legolas felt closer to Gimli than he ever had before. He watched the Dwarf closely and it struck him how much he admired Gimli’s fortitude and even his stubbornness. They were both old now although neither of them looked much different than when they had first met. Dwarf and Elf were very different in appearance but Legolas admired Gimli’s strongly featured face, not at all unpleasant to look upon with its large brown eyes, full lips and magnificent beard. He admired the hair that grew in abundance over his body because it was so different from his own hairless skin.

After brushing the debris off his clothing, Legolas looked around the garden bed where he had fallen asleep. It was very early in the morning -- silvery drops of dew were sparkling on the irises and other early spring flowers—and all was silent. He could not hear or see another soul. Swiftly he made his way toward his nearby house.

Legolas and Gimli had decided to build their homes at the base of a small hill which rose about fifty feet high and was approximately three times larger around the base. While the front entrance to their attached but separate homes boasted a spacious porch and terrace, the main bodies of their houses were built beneath the hill. This had been Gimli’s idea, gleaned from the Hobbit holes he remembered from visiting the Shire. Since Legolas preferred to be surrounded by trees, the Elf wanted to live in the forest. But he had grown up in the underground palace in Mirkwood and had also become accustomed to Gimli’s home in the Jeweled Caves of Helm’s Deep, which he visited often before they had left Middle Earth for Valinor. He was not bothered by living underground as long as he had access to trees. The hill in the middle of the Woods of Orome suited both Elf and Dwarf very well.

Their two living quarters were distinctly different from each other. Gimli’s rooms were below ground and were fashioned after Aglarond, the Glittering Caves. Legolas’ rooms were higher within the structure of the hill and with many windows and balconies that opened to the outside. There were two separate entrances, one accessible from the front through the porch and hallway and up a flight of stairs, but the other entrance could be reached only by climbing a huge Mallorn tree which grew outside one of his balconies. If he climbed this tree to a talan about twelve feet off the ground he could cross it to his balcony, leap onto it and thus gain access to his sitting room. He made for this tree and entered his rooms unseen.

He had disrobed and was about to draw a bath when he heard footsteps outside his front door followed by voices. Gimli’s he recognized first. The Dwarf sounded a greeting to someone although Legolas could not make out his exact words. Then he heard another voice that made him recoil in horror, followed by more of Gimli’s voice and lastly the sound of receding footsteps. Finally, a loud knock sounded at his door. Pulling a shirt over his head Legolas had not enough time to dress himself properly before Gimli blundered into his rooms without waiting for a response to his knocking.

“Oh Great Mahal, preserve me!” Gimli swore heartily and clutched at his chest. His eyes bulged when he saw Legolas.

Legolas’ voice rose with anxiety. “Gimli,” he cried. “Why have you burst into my house so abruptly without announcing yourself?”

Gimli, his breathing heavy, supported himself by leaning on the back of a chair.

“I didn’t think you were at home.”

After a brief pause Legolas replied in a softer tone. “Two things disturb me about that statement, Gimli. One, that you would presume I was not at home at such an early hour of the morning and two, that you would make a habit of coming into my house and rummaging about in my rooms when you think I am out.”

His eyes narrowed while he stared pointedly at his friend.

The Dwarf was silent, appearing not to have heard his words. Normally he would have been upset by any harsh or unfair criticism from Legolas but he decided to forego pointing out to his friend that he would never try to enter his rooms without permission and quietly held out his hand in which lay a piece of damp, folded paper. Legolas’ words had stung him, however, and he vowed that he would not let this slight pass without some form of retribution.

“I was bringing you a note which I was going to leave in your rooms—good gods, Legolas!” Gimli exclaimed, suddenly realizing that Legolas was naked. “Do you never wear clothes when you are alone?”

“Let me have the note.” Legolas took the paper from Gimli, and ripped it into tiny pieces and flung them out of the window where they floated like little petals of tiny white spiraea flowers to the ground.

Gimli’s eyebrows rose in startled chagrin. “That message was from—“

“Yes, I think I know who it was from,” Legolas interrupted. “I have no wish to read about how much she would like to see me or to do anything that she might ask of me.” He paced to the window and stood looking over the ledge.

“I don’t suppose you could put on some clothes?” Gimli averted his eyes. He found the Elf’s nakedness to be disturbingly pleasant but did want Legolas to see him overtly enjoying it.

“She has been plaguing me worse than any disease, Gimli. She will not leave me alone. She thinks she loves me but I have no interest in her. I do not love her in return as she seems to think, and in fact I do not like her very much.”

“Can you not simply tell her this and be done with it?”

Legolas whirled around to face Gimli, who cringed, his face reddening.

“All right, Gimli, I will put on a robe when I have washed. I slept in the garden last night. I feel dirty and disgusting.”

To Gimli, Legolas looked pristine and perfect as usual, not a hair out of place nor a spot of grime upon his body. “On the ground?” 

Legolas pulled the shirt off and flung it aside. “Yes, in the dirt.” He crossed to a heavy wooden table which held a ewer and basin and poured out some water. Splashing some on his face, neck and chest, he turned to his friend, eyes closed.

“Gimli, could you please—“

“Absolutely not,” Gimli replied, averting his gaze.

“Just hand me a towel, would you please? I have water in my eyes.”

Gimli grumbled but tossed him the towel which landed on the floor beside Legolas. When the Elf bent to retrieve it, Gimli felt he could not tolerate seeing any more of the naked Legolas in various positions and turned his back on him and began to walk toward the door.

“As I was saying,” Legolas continued, wrapping the towel around his waist, “I have tried to explain to her how I feel but she still will not leave me alone.”

Gimli sighed and turned to face his friend, nodding approvingly upon seeing the towel wrapped tightly around his slender waist. “I feel the same way about Aule. Well, not the exact same way, but his is a constant presence that is beginning to become an irritation.”

“You do know what we should do, don’t you Gimli?” Legolas asked, his face brightening.

“What is that, my friend?”

“We should go traveling,” the Elf replied.

“What a wonderful idea,” said the Dwarf.

 

But before Elf and Dwarf could leave on their planned journey, they found themselves invited to a formal dinner at Aule’s home and Legolas felt that they could not refuse without insulting the Vala and therefore must attend. Gimli would have preferred not to go, not being a lover of fancy dress and boring small talk besides his desire not to encourage more attention than necessary from Aule. But Legolas, who did enjoy these affairs along with dressing in his finest and meeting new people, explained to him that since a number of the other Valar would be there it might be seen as a slight if Gimli did not honour them with his presence.

“Also,” Legolas added, “the Lady Galadriel may also be present and it would be another opportunity for you to see her.”

At that, Gimli was convinced that he should go and the two friends set off to Aule’s mansion dressed in their finest and riding together as was their wont astride a beautiful white horse. Gimli preferred to ride with Legolas. He still did not feel comfortable on a horse by himself despite the tutelage of Orome, who had been teaching Gimli how to ride at Aule’s insistence. He supposed that eventually it would be necessary for him to be able to ride alone, but he did enjoy riding with Legolas, sitting as closely to the Elf as possible.

Aule's dwelling in the Woods of Orome was not far from Legolas and Gimli’s own homes and it took them only an hour or so to reach it. Upon arrival, Elf and Dwarf were ushered into a spacious sitting room which to Legolas’ delight was quite airy, with floor to ceiling windows. Their stained glass panels were patterned in colours like jewels matched by jewel-toned carpets scattered across the vast black marble floor, so polished that it reflected those who walked across its shiny surface. Legolas admired his own long legs which seemed to stretch down forever into the dark shine as he glided gracefully across the floor to greet some of the other guests. Gimli followed more cautiously along the carpets. The appearance of his upside-down self in the shine disturbed him and threw off his balance.

Not all of the Valar were present for dinner. Aule and his spouse Yavanna, Orome and Vana, and Tulkas were the only members of the Valar in attendance. Tulkas and Legolas both shared a love of the outdoors and gravitated toward each other, both sensing a kindred spirit in the other. Legolas was eager to speak with the Vala, having many questions for him about the various flora and fauna he found in the Woods.

Many Elves of the Vanyar were also present. Legolas spotted immediately the person who had sent him the note via Gimli and whom he was trying to ignore without seeming rude. Every time she would look his way he would try to position himself so his back was to her and it would look as if he had not noticed her presence. But it was not long before the raven-haired Elf appeared at his side and gently touched his elbow.

“Legolas, did you not receive my message?” 

Legolas, startled, searched his mind frantically for something he could tell her that would not be completely untruthful or hurtful. 

“I am afraid the note was lost before I had a chance to read it,” he stammered.

She stared at him, the look of disappointment creasing her otherwise smooth and perfect white porcelain brow.

“In that case, if you have not read my note then you are not aware that I plan to return to the Isle of Este?”

Legolas smiled suddenly, making his face radiant. A burden fell like a heavy cloak from his shoulders.

“Oh, you do?” He tried vainly to not let his relief show in his voice or his countenance.

“Yes,” she replied. “I had written to you formally asking if you could accompany me as my escort.”

Legolas froze on the spot as Gimli appeared beside him.

“Hello, Galen-las,” Gimli greeted the raven-haired Elf of the Vanyar who had taken an interest in Legolas since she had first met him and Gimli as one of the welcoming party when they had first arrived on these shores.

“It is a nice surprise to meet you once again,” Gimli continued.

Galen-las regarded Gimli with one of her finely arched eyebrow raised.

“I would say the same to you, Gimli, except that we saw each other only yesterday.”

“We did?” Gimli coughed, his face reddening at the realization that he had made a huge error. 

_Confound it,_ he thought. _I am no good at this etiquette business._

“Do you not remember that I gave you a note to give to Legolas?” Galen-las continued.

Gimli regarded her carefully, then looked at Legolas who placed a slender hand to his forehead as if he had suddenly developed a headache. He nodded slightly at the Dwarf.

“Oh yes, now that you mention it, I do remember. The note, yes.” Gimli’s face continued to redden.

“Did you not give my note to Legolas, then?” 

Gimli felt as if Galen-las’ gaze would pierce through his eyes and render him blind for his lies and obfuscation. He could feel a slight sweat breaking out across his brow. He shot Legolas a questioning look and was rewarded by another nod of the Elf’s elegantly coiffed head.

“Yes, I certainly did give him the note,” Gimli replied.

“But Legolas has just told me that he did not receive it,” Galen-las said, her tone as icy as the slopes surrounding the Pass of Caradhras.

Gimli’s eyes opened wide in distress. “How could that be? Legolas, did you not tell me…”

Legolas interrupted him. “That is not exactly what I said. I told Galen-las that the note was lost before I had a chance to read it. Receiving the note was not the problem. I did receive it. Gimli made a point of coming to my rooms to hand it to me personally.”

Galen-las stared at both Elf and Dwarf, her fine brow creased in confusion. “But how could that be? You were not home at the time.”

“What?” Legolas exclaimed.  
“What?” Gimli cried in unison.

“Gimli told me that you were not in your rooms when I met him outside your door and so I handed the note to him and asked him to give it to you.”

“Ah, I see,” Legolas replied. “Gimli did not think that I was in my house when he took the note from you, but in fact, I was there when he came in to leave the note where I could find it.”

“But that is not what you said,” Galen-las remarked.

“What did I say?” Legolas challenged her, feeling confident that he could perhaps parry the thrust and win this argument.

"You said that Gimli made a point of coming to your rooms in order to personally hand you my note.”

"So I did," Legolas smiled sweetly. "And that is what I thought when he did give me the note. But Gimli could not have intended that because he did not know that I was there at the time.”

 _Very good, Legolas,_ Gimli thought.

Galen-las stared at Legolas, who calmly gazed back at her. The corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, but nothing could be gleaned from his passive expression. The last thing he wanted to do was show any sign of affection toward her. He felt she needed no encouragement and the sooner he could extricate himself from this situation the better. He felt guilty for tearing up the note when he thought it might be somewhat more personal than telling him she planned to go away.

Right then the bell sounded for dinner and the guests departed to the dining hall. Galen-las tried to have Legolas escort her but he avoided this by pretending to have left something behind at the bar and excused himself to return there, where he found Tulkas draining the last of his drink.

Gimli stepped quickly into the breach and offered his arm to Galen-las. The Lady Galadriel had not come to dinner after all, much to his disappointment, so he did not mind doing Legolas this small favour.

Legolas quickly asked the bartender for a glass of wine so that he would not appear to have been lying to Galen-las. Tulkas grinned at him.

“Nice work, my friend,” the Vala exclaimed, giving Legolas a hearty pat on the back.

“I am glad you approve,” Legolas smiled.

“What do you say to a little hunting in the Yavannamire Forest for the next few days?” Tulkas asked the Elf.

“I am not sure,” Legolas replied. “I promised Gimli to do some traveling with him about the Isles. We are eager to explore your magnificent unsullied land.”

Tulkas’ smile was huge. “Gimli is of course welcome to come with us. After the hunt, you both can continue with your plans to explore.”

Legolas smiled and gratefully accepted the invitation on behalf of Gimli and himself.

Aule’s table was set with a sumptuous feast, many vessels full of the best food Valinor had to offer, wine and brews of different hues and tastes decorating the table amid splendid arrangements of the many flowers and greenery found in the surrounding woods. But Legolas found that nothing tempted him. Beside him sat the one person in the whole of Valinor that made him feel uncomfortable. He found it exceedingly difficult to tolerate her presence at his right elbow and busied himself with examining carefully each of the dishes that were passed to him one after the other down the table, without taking a single spoonful of food from any of them.

“Legolas,” Galen-las said finally. “Will you not eat anything tonight? The food is delicious.”

Words that Gimli had spoken earlier came to his mind.

_You must confront her sooner or later and you should make it sooner so that we can travel in peace without worries about her following us niggling at your brain and ruining our pleasure. Tell her she does not interest you and be done with it._

After a brief pause while he considered Gimli’s advice, Legolas turned to Galen-las.

“Galen-las, concerning your upcoming trip to the Isle of Este…”

“Yes?” She smiled sweetly back at him.

“We would be happy to be your escort,” he said, his facial expression showing no emotion. “But Gimli and I have plans to go hunting with Tulkas tomorrow so if you are planning to leave very soon then I am afraid we cannot accompany you.”

Galen-las smiled brightly at him. “I am delighted, Legolas,” she replied. “I can leave any time I like on my journey, so when you come back from your hunt please come and get me. I will be ready.”  
 _That is not so bad,_ Legolas thought. _There should be plenty of time to talk to her while we are taking her to Este._  
After dinner was over, Legolas and Gimli took their leave and returned home. Legolas packed his clothes for the hunting trip and was deciding between two outfits when he heard loud knocking at his door.

“Legolas, it is me, Gimli. Please let me in.”

Legolas dropped some clothing into his valise and made his way to the door, but before he could open it, Gimli’s voice stopped him.

“Legolas, are you dressed or are you naked? Because if you are naked then I’m not coming in until you put something on.”

Legolas looked down at himself and swore softly. He had disrobed while sorting out his clothing and had intended to go to bed as he usually did, without wearing anything. The only thing he had on was a thin belt of woven leather around his waist from which dangled his keys and a few other small items of value.

“Well?” Gimli’s tone was muffled by the closed door but sounded urgent nonetheless.

“Gimli, as you thought, I am naked. Can you please wait a moment while I put something on?” He began to rummage through his dresser for something appropriate that he had not already packed for the trip.

The doorknob rattled.

“Legolas! What are you doing? What is going on in there? Please hurry!”

Legolas was still rummaging about when he could hear the sound of heavy footsteps coming nearer down the hallway outside his door. The doorknob rattled more urgently followed by pounding on the thick wood. Then a loud voice filled the air.

“Gimli! My dear Dwarf!” It was unmistakably Aule the Smith.

Legolas made a dash for the door but when he reached it and yanked it open, in flew Gimli. The Dwarf could not stop himself from making full contact with Legolas, upon which his beard became entangled in Legolas’ belt.

Shocked and dismayed, Gimli put his hands on the Elf’s hips and pushed away with all his might. Some of his beard remained attached to Legolas’ belt and the memory of the feel of soft Elven skin remained on his hands and etched itself into his brain permanently.

He was reminded of a time back in Middle-earth after the War of the Ring when he and Legolas had traveled together to various places, one of them being the Mines of Moria. Gimli had entertained the thought of rebuilding it to its former glory but what they found in the ruins there put a stop to these plans. The place had been used by Sauron to manufacture orcs by the thousands and after the Ring was destroyed, all remaining orcs and other evil creatures had perished and disintegrated into dust. But while at first it seemed that Middle-earth would be immediately returned to its peaceful state, the reality was anything but. What they found when they explored the ruined mines were deep fathomless sand pits in which lurked huge antlions…terrible creatures that had grown without impediment into a huge size that waited quietly for their prey, hidden deep in the sand, enormous jaws ready to swallow anyone or anything that fell into the pits. 

At the time, Gimli had despaired of ever rebuilding Moria but Legolas had convinced him that it could be done if the beasts could be destroyed and said he would go to Gondor to see Aragorn and ask him for some poison that would kill the antlions. In the white city were the best alchemists that Middle-earth had to offer and Legolas felt sure that if he made the journey there they would be able to provide him with the necessary poison. Gimli had decided to stay in Moria while Legolas went to Gondor alone, but the Elf had not returned when he promised and Gimli grew anxious waiting. When Gimli went in search of him, he found Legolas near death but being nursed by some kindly men of Rohan in the Firien Woods. The Elf had been attacked by Dunlendings and had managed to fight them off but had received many wounds and would probably have expired if it hadn’t been for the help of the men of Rohan and Gimli, who had made it his mission to save Legolas. 

During the time that Gimli was nursing Legolas back to health, he had come in as close contact with the Elf as he ever had, bathing him, washing his wounds, helping him to toilet himself and even singing him to sleep at night. He remembered the feel of Elven skin then too, since he would hold the Elf’s hand in his until he fell asleep, willing his Dwarven strength into his friend whose own strength was waning. He grudgingly admired the Elf’s fine, pale form, smooth without any visible hair anywhere except on his head. And Gimli would stroke that golden hair, lovingly combing it with his fingers although it was always tangle-free. He gazed at Legolas’ body, comparing it to his own, which was sturdier, shorter and definitely more hairy. 

He noticed how pale and almost translucent Legolas’ skin was and traced the lines of his fine veins with a thick yet not ungentle finger. Was Legolas beginning to fade at this time? Mayhap the realization that this might be possible even after Legolas had returned to health had driven them both to drop the idea of refurbishing Moria in order to travel to the Grey Havens where they built the ship that brought them here. It was not that long ago, Gimli reminisced. When he thought that he had almost lost Legolas…

But he could not worry about that now. Grabbing Legolas by the hand, he ran for the balcony, pulling the Elf along behind him.

“Come on, we must jump!”

A great banging clattered on the surface of the heavy oak door. “Gimli!”

“Oh blast the man! Can he never leave me alone?” Gimli’s face reddened with frustration.

Legolas took the Dwarf’s arm and turned him around.

“Look Gimli,” he said and repeated the Dwarf’s own words to him. “You will have to confront him sooner or later and it may as well be now. Just let him know that your freedom is important to you and that you cannot always be at his beck and call.”

Gimli sighed. “You are right for once, Legolas. I have no more patience for these cat and mouse games.”

“That’s the spirit.” Legolas moved to hug his friend but Gimli, glancing pointedly at the Elf’s nakedness, warned him off with a look that would have frozen the fires of Mount Doom.

The knocking persisted. Legolas crossed the floor and opened the door. Its entrance was filled by the presence of the mighty Vala, Aule the Smith, resplendent in his hunting gear, who greeted Legolas, then brushed past him when he spotted Gimli standing by the window.

“Gimli my dear boy, I was sure you’d be here. Legolas my dear, always a pleasure.” The Vala said nothing about finding Gimli alone with a naked Elf.

“Good evening, Aule,” Gimli replied. “We were just about to retire.” Quickly realizing what he had just said, Gimli’s face reddened. “That is, I had wanted a word with Legolas before I retired to my own rooms for the night.”

“Do you mind coming downstairs with me before you do?” Aule asked him. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

Gimli sighed. “Not at all,” he replied and with a brief glance of resignation at Legolas, followed Aule out the door.

 

Beneath a chestnut tree, its heavy white blossoms nodding in the evening’s cool breeze, Gimli breathed deeply. He looked up at Aule, seated beside him upon an oaken bench and regarding the Dwarf with a loving smile on his ruddy face. Gimli could sense the solitude of the woods though his own inner turmoil was cluttering his mind and affecting his sense of peace.

“Gimli, my dear Dwarf, what is it that you wished to say to me?” The Vala’s voice was warm with affection.

Gimli considered carefully before speaking. “Legolas and I have been discussing this,” he began. “It was Legolas’ idea that I talk to you.” He stopped at this point, not sure how to go on. He had not been able to run through the conversation in his mind beforehand as was his wont, and was stuck for a moment. Aule pondered him expectantly.

“The thing is,” Gimli took up the thread again, “Legolas thinks that we…perhaps…we are seeing too much of each other.” He stopped abruptly and waited for the Vala’s reaction.

“Ah, yes,” Aule looked down at his hands. “Since you mention it, people are beginning to talk.”

“They are?” Gimli brightened. Perhaps telling Aule that he would prefer not to spend so much time with him would not be as difficult as Gimli had thought. “I wouldn’t have thought that people would have noticed.”

“Not everyone has, of course,” Aule replied thoughtfully. “But I certainly have and one or two others have spoken to me about it as well.”

Gimli felt taken aback by Aule’s comment, but felt relief at the same time and his face brightened.

“They have? But that is wonderful news.”

Aule raised his eyebrows at Gimli’s reaction. “Do you really think it is wonderful news that people think you and Legolas spend too much time together and are talking about it?”

“Wh-what?” Gimli stammered.

“I mean that I noticed that the Elf is usually in a state of nakedness when I come across you and him together and came to the conclusion that you and he are together in more than one sense of the word.”

Gimli stared at him, his eyes bulging and his face turning a dark shade of crimson. He began to stammer.

“N—n—no! No, Mahal! You have it all wrong. It is not Legolas that I was planning to discuss with you!”

“No?” Aule looked surprised. “But you kept mentioning his name at the beginning of this conversation. I have been under the impression that you are smitten with him and it seems that perhaps this borders on obsession.”

Gimli felt a little nauseated, his face turning pale. He sat down hard on the bench beside Aule. He wiped his forehead with a trembling hand. He could not tolerate this complicated mixture of innuendo and misunderstanding any longer. It was the sort of thing that was beyond his expertise, words and subtleties of conversation not being his strong point.

“It is not Legolas, it is you!” he blurted.

“Me?” Aule’s voice reduced its volume to a shocked whisper. “You are smitten with me?”

“Oh great open pits, please swallow me!” Gimli bent forward and put his hands over his face. “I am sorry, Mahal, but no! Please let me tell you straight out that I am no good at trying to step softly around the issue. I feel that you have been spending too much time with me when there are other pursuits that I would be interested in…pursuing. I have been feeling smothered lately and would like to do some traveling and…some other things that I had in mind to do.”

"On your own?” Aule looked at Gimli with an expression of sympathy.

“Well, er…no.” Gimli shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Not on your own?” Aule smiled at him.

“Erm…well…” Gimli did not know how best to go on.

Their conversation was interrupted suddenly by Legolas throwing his suitcase over the balcony onto the grass below where it landed at the feet of Vala and Dwarf. He followed it by bounding lightly from balcony into Mallorn tree and then leaping lightly to the ground to stand in front of them. He dusted his hands and smoothed his hair flat. His voice brimming with excitement, he cried, “I’m all set to go as soon as you have finished your meeting. If you are going to be awhile longer then I shall go to the stables and bring the horse.”

Gimli’s eyes darted back and forth between Legolas and Aule. He could not imagine how much more uncomfortable this conversation could become.

Aule regarded Legolas carefully. The Elf was dressed in an attractive doeskin shirt, open in front, its laces left carelessly undone. His leggings and boots matched the shirt perfectly. “May I compliment you on your fetching outfit, Legolas? Are you and Gimli planning to go somewhere together?”

“We are going first with Tulkas on a hunt,” Legolas replied cheerily. “Then we are to meet Galen-las of the Vanyar who has asked us to accompany her to Lake Lorellin where she plans to visit with Este and Irmo upon the Isle. From there, Gimli and I plan to set to do a little exploring and after that, we shall probably return along the coast, possibly stopping at Tol Eressea to visit for a time with the Lady Galadriel who is staying there.”

"Ah, the Lady Galadriel,” Aule remarked.

Gimli brightened at the mention of Galadriel’s name. “If there is any Elf I am smitten with, it is the Lady previously of the Golden Wood,” he informed Aule.

“I see,” said the Vala. “I do believe I understand you, Master Gimli. Very well.” The large Vala placed his hands on his knees and rose to his feet. “Let me wish you both a safe and happy journey.”

“Thank you,” Legolas beamed. “I will go and fetch our horse and then we shall be on our way.” He turned and ran sprightly along the path to the stables.

Aule turned to Gimli.

“I wish to tell you something before you leave, Gimli. Do you know the story of how the Dwarves came to be?”

Gimli looked at him with his eyebrows raised. “We were made out of the earth and the rock and stone, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, it was I who created life but I was not permitted to do so. I was very afraid at the time for what I had created against the wishes of the One although it brought me great joy. I expected the wrath of Eru to come down upon me and force me to destroy that which I had made out of love.”

A pallor grew upon Gimli’s face when he realized that the world may have been bereft of Dwarves if Aule had not done what he did and then pleaded for their lives to be spared. He felt faint and wiped his brow while Aule continued.

“Eru, in his wisdom, took pity on me and he let my creations live. There were but seven of you in the beginning. He spared you but only under one condition and that was for Yavanna to put you to sleep for many years until the Elves, who were in Eru’s plan to be the Firstborn, awakened and then the Dwarves could be resuscitated.”

“You mean,” Gimli said, “that the Dwarves are actually the Firstborn?”

“In a way, yes,” Aule replied. “You were my precious creations, made by my own hand and I loved you dearly. I taught the first seven all that I knew of mining, metalworking and crafting. The Dwarves appreciated what the lands had to give from beneath the surfaces of rock, gravel and stone. The Dwarves have been the dearest of all the peoples of Arda in my heart. You are the last of them, Gimli.” Aule’s eyes brimmed with tears. “You are the only one of my children that is left upon which to bestow my love and my attention. Though it pains me to hear that you wish not to spend so much time in my company, I do understand that you want your freedom. I also understand your love for the Elves, for it is true that they are the most fair and pleasant of the people that Eru has created. And now that you know what is in my heart, I will say no more on the matter.”

Gimli sat speechless. He gazed up at Aule and pondered all that the Vala had told him. After awhile, he began to speak.

“Thank you for your honesty and kind words, Mahal. But would you please confim just one thing for me?”

“Yes, my dear lad, what is it?”

“That the Dwarves were really the Firstborn.”

Legolas appeared, returning along the path from the stables, leading the white horse that he and Gimli always rode.

“Now, Gimli,” Aule’s voice was stern. “That is a secret that perhaps I should not have made known to you, but I felt I could trust you to keep this to yourself. I do not wish that any trouble should arise from the Elves. If the knowledge became apparent to them that they were indeed not the Firstborn though they were meant to be, there could be serious repercussions. Please promise me that you will not say anything about this matter to Legolas.”

Gimli considered for a moment. “I cannot promise,” he said finally.

“Gimli!” Aule hissed at him, glancing toward Legolas who approached slowly, walking the horse along the path.

“I will not lie to you. I cannot promise.” Gimli hung his head.

When Legolas arrived, Aule bent and lifted Gimli in his huge hands, placing the Dwarf upon the back of the horse so that they were at eye level. This gave him an opportunity to speak softly but directly into Gimli’s ear.

Legolas was busy tying his suitcase to the horse’s saddle and did not notice them.

“Promise me that you will not say anything to him before we meet again. I want to speak with you more on this matter. I am not sure you understand the importance and all the ramifications.” The Vala’s whisper was fierce.

Gimli nodded and glanced at Legolas, who grasped Gimli suddenly by the wrist.

“Have you brought any of your belongings with you?” he asked the Dwarf.

Gimli clicked his tongue. “Great open pits, I have left them in my rooms!”

“I will get them for you, Gimli, if you will give me your keys,” Legolas beamed.

Gimli handed him the keys to his quarters and Legolas ran up the Mallorn and onto his balcony, then disappeared into his rooms.

“Remember what I told you, Gimli,” Aule gripped the Dwarf by his hands. “Do not say anything to the Elf about this until we have had a chance to speak again.” He looked directly into Gimli’s eyes, his expression grim.

“All right, I promise.” Gimli meant it. His head still spun with the information he had received and it had happened so quickly that he had not had enough time to absorb it all nor reflect upon it.

Gimli looked around at their surroundings. The sun was beginning to set in the west, casting an orange glow upon the trees. Suddenly the world seemed brighter.

 

Sitting behind Legolas upon the white horse, Gimli examined the golden strands of the Elf’s hair, so reminiscent of Galadriel’s. He removed his gloves so that he could stroke it softly, feeling its silkiness beneath his fingers, seeing its glittering strands reflecting the setting sun, inhaling its warm, perfumed scent. He closed his eyes and reminisced.

When he had first met Legolas, Gimli hated the Elves and with good reason. He had learned from his father, who had taught him the history of the Dwarf-Elf conflicts of the past. But through the Fellowship of the Ring and the journey to Mordor, Gimli and Legolas had first begun to tolerate each other, then a camaraderie and strong friendship grew, and perhaps something stronger had also grown between them.

Aule’s words had struck a chord. Not only his words, but his natural assumption that Legolas and Gimli were more than friends. The thought of becoming Legolas’ lover had never entered Gimli’s mind before. Or had it? The Dwarf snorted behind Legolas’ back astride the horse, causing the Elf to stir and turn his head to glance back at him.

“Is everything all right, Gimli?”

“Er, yes,” Gimli replied. “I was just thinking.”

Legolas turned back and silence fell between them again. Gimli leaned his head against the Elf’s hair, turning his face toward it and closed his eyes. He had once hated this hair but now he loved it.

He had lain with the Elf only once, but because Legolas had seemed to have forgotten all about it, Gimli had never mentioned it nor suggested anything of the sort to him since.

It had happened during the time that Gimli had nursed the Elf back to health in the Firien Woods. Legolas had been so weak then, a much paler version of himself and it had frightened Gimli. One night they had been sitting on the forest floor, Gimli cross-legged, the Elf leaning against his knees, lamenting about what he thought was his impending death. Legolas was in an extremely vulnerable state. They discussed his possible fading. Gimli had known that Legolas was very old and he was old himself, and it was then that they discussed their future based on expectations that neither of them had that much longer to live. Shortly after that they decided to leave for the Grey Havens.

He sat stroking the Elf’s golden hair in his lap while speaking soothing words to him, as best as he could muster. Gimli knew he was never going to be a master of words but he tried his best. Usually he let his actions speak for him. At this time, he felt aroused by the Elf and this new development surprised him but he did not let himself think about what he was doing. He let himself slide to the ground so that he was lying beside Legolas and took the Elf’s face between his hands. He remembered murmuring some words about this perhaps being their last time alone together and how scared he was that Legolas might expire, leaving him without his beloved companion. 

The Elf had touched his face, stroking his beard and spoke kind, loving words to him. Legolas could speak so beautifully, unlike himself. The words themselves aroused him, as did Legolas’ soft, sweet voice, so unlike his deep one. Gimli had bent and kissed him and the feel of the Elf’s soft lips against his own hard ones, the smooth skin next to that of the hirsute Gimli excited him and he had quickly stripped himself and Legolas of their clothing so that they both lay naked next to each other. Their differences became an attraction. Subsequent lovemaking happened very naturally and afterward, Gimli felt much changed. They spoke no further words of endearment that night, nor since.

That night Legolas had slept more soundly than he had done for months and when he awoke, he seemed his old self again. The Elf never talked about what had happened between them; in fact, he remembered nothing about the events of the weeks before he had been attacked. Gimli never brought it up either, feeling that perhaps the Elf had not been in his right mind at the time. If Gimli were to tell him what happened, he might think the Dwarf was lying and reject the idea, or worse, fall out with Gimli over it. Gimli dreaded that possibility so he had kept silent ever since, continuing to be Legolas’ friend but never again his lover.

He sighed and raised his arms, placing them around Legolas’ waist, clasping his hands together so that his grip was tight, like a hug. Legolas turned and smiled.

Aule’s confession had made Gimli feel bolder than usual in Legolas’ company. Perhaps there was some truth in the assumption. Perhaps he did love Legolas in a way that he had not allowed himself to think about. He felt a stirring in his loins that he had not felt since that long ago night. Strong memories came flooding back into his mind.

“Legolas,” he asked, his voice gravelly. “When are we going to stop for the night?”

 

Legolas broke the kiss and gazed into Gimli’s eyes, one delicate hand stroking the Dwarf’s brow. The morning sun was rising in the east and casting a red glow over everything in the woods. 

“Your eyes are beautiful, Gimli,” he whispered. “They are brown like the earth and just as warm.” He let his finger trace the line of his eyebrow. “I don’t know why we have never done this before.”

Gimli sighed with happiness. The Elf was innocent in so many ways but he was an energetic lover and Gimli felt that there was no reason to speak of any secrets. He felt secure in his own knowledge and if the Elf did not know Aule’s secret either, then perhaps it was for the best. No, Gimli would keep that secret to himself.

Sometime later, Legolas and Gimli sat with Galen-las on a small grassy knoll where they had stopped for refreshment while escorting her to the Isle of Este. She regarded them closely, smiling at them.

“I should have known,” she said, taking a bite of a fresh apple Legolas had picked for her from a nearby tree.

Both Legolas and Gimli regarded her expectantly. “Known what?” Legolas asked.

“That you two were a couple. I am sorry for annoying you with my pursuit, Legolas. At the time, I assumed you were attracted to women.”

Both Elf and Dwarf turned crimson and glanced at each other quickly before turning to stare at Galen-las. “We are not a couple!” they shouted in unison.

“You are not? I was so sure of it, seeing how close the two of you are,” she replied, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “You are more like a couple than any other I know. Everyone tried to tell me but I did not want to believe them at first because I was so besotted with Legolas.”

“We are close friends,” Legolas said simply. 

Gimli stared at the ground. His head hurt. Another secret that he would have to try to keep. The burden was becoming almost too much. He looked up and gave Galen-las an angry glance.

“You Elves are all the same!” he cried. “Gossiping and telling tales about other people is what you are best at, isn’t it? Never mind anything else. We Dwarves are the best smiths, the best at fighting, the strongest, bravest and most honourable people in the world. You Elves cannot hold a candle to us!”

Galen-las coughed, almost choking on her apple. While she was searching for her handkerchief, Gimli squeezed Legolas’ hand as if to apologize for his angry words. The Elf responded by squeezing back and when Gimli glanced at him, he saw a twinkle in his lover’s eye.

Later he asked Legolas what he found so funny about what Galen-las had said.

“Why, Gimli,” the Elf had responded. “You would start the conflict between Elves and Dwarves again just because someone said something that made you lose your temper.”

“No, I would not,” Gimli said. “I would not want that.”

Legolas laughed. “And the funniest thing of all is that you have forgotten that you are the only one, Gimli. The last living Dwarf. Unlike those of the Firstborn, we Elves, who must number in the thousands. There could be no real war between us.”

Gimli looked at him, his blood rising. Redness was creeping up his neck. Maybe he and Legolas did not have much time left and would spend out the last of their days sooner rather than later, but before the end he was tempted to tell him everything. Aule’s secret be damned. Then his flash of anger disappeared and he realized what a mistake revealing the secret would be. Before their time was ended, there was plenty of life left to live. A red blush covering his face, he shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “I suppose you are right, Legolas,” he said. “I suppose you are right.”


End file.
